


The Potions Master's Apprentice

by RJ_Anderson



Series: Darkness and Light [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU from HBP on, Durmstrang Transfer Student, F/M, Mad-Eye Moody's niece is a spy, Teacher-Student Relationship, all due respect to JKR but I prefer this version of Snape to the one we got in canon, also I love Mad-Eye a lot and I think he'd be a cool uncle, canon compliant up to OotP, not underage though (not that anything really happens in this part anyway), see also: Dumbledore, slow burn (depending on what you're burning)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-04
Updated: 2003-10-04
Packaged: 2020-01-15 17:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18503980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RJ_Anderson/pseuds/RJ_Anderson
Summary: A young blind woman comes to Hogwarts on a secret mission, only to find herself allied with the one man she has been warned not to trust - Severus Snape.





	1. Inferno

**Author's Note:**

> This story, which was originally canon-compliant but now obviously an AU, is part of my complete 2003 revision of the original "Darkness and Light" trilogy, significantly altered from the form in which it first appeared on the web in the spring and summer of 2001. Thanks to all my beta readers: Teri Krenek, Alec Dossetor, Liz Barr, Erica H. Smith, Christy/Sabrina, Sarah Izhilzha, Kim Krajci, Sannali a.k.a. Morwen, Emily Bytheway, Carole a.k.a. Snape's Witch, Laura Page, Elaine Lahey, Liz E., Julia Steinberg, Manda, and Zebee Johnstone.

_The moon, and fire, and the voice of a man. These three things were stamped indelibly upon her memory of that night, more clearly than the stuffed kneazle her four-year-old self could not sleep without, or the expression on her father's face as he kissed her for the last time._

_For fourteen years now she had waited, listening, for that voice to speak again. And when she heard it, she would recognise it at once._

_What she would do when that happened, however, she had never been entirely sure._

#

"From where?" The black-haired boy froze mid-step, round glasses winking in the light as he turned to stare at the girl beside him. In haste, not wanting to be seen, Maud retreated behind a suit of armour at the foot of the staircase. The little owl on her shoulder shifted uncertainly from one foot to the other, but she murmured "Watch," and Athena obeyed, following the other three students with unblinking yellow eyes.

"I just told you," said the girl, shifting the load of books in her arms. "Durmstrang."

"Oh, great," groaned the last member of the threesome, a lanky boy with red hair. "Just what we need, on top of everything else. A Slytherin who's spent the last six years studying the Dark Arts."

The girl gave him a severe look. "We don't know that! Viktor told me-"

 _Of course,_ thought Maud. _I should have recognised her at once._ The young woman's photograph had accompanied Viktor Krum on his return from the Triwizard Tournament, and though he had little to say about the rest of his time at Hogwarts, he had been very nearly eloquent when it came to Hermione Granger.

"Wait." The bespectacled boy shoved his hair back out of his eyes, exposing an ugly scar running across his forehead, and all at once Maud knew his name as surely as if he'd shouted it at her. "How do you know she's in Slytherin, Ron? She wasn't Sorted with the others last night."

"Of course not," Hermione answered primly, before the other boy could. "She only got here this morning. And anyway, only first years get Sorted."

"Well, she's got to be put in one of the Houses," objected Ron, "so I don't see why they wouldn't Sort her like everybody else."

"We could ask Professor McGonagall," said Hermione, but she sounded dubious.

Harry's mouth took on a bitter twist. "You could. I've had enough of being told to mind my own business, thanks..."

From her place in the shadows, Maud listened to the three students arguing their way down the corridor and gave a wry smile. News travelled fast here at Hogwarts: not like Durmstrang, where the air was thick with secrets, and the truth never ventured anywhere without a retinue of lies. It would take some getting used to.

Athena gave a questioning hoot, and Maud put up a hand to reassure her, running the soft feathers between her fingers. "Yes," she said. "We'll go now."

After all, Dumbledore had told her to report to the Head of her new House, and it wouldn't do to be late.

#

_As she readied herself for bed that night, her parents sat together at the kitchen table, drinking tea and conversing in low voices. An open newspaper lay between them. "I can't believe it," her mother said. "First they threatened the Maberleys, then they tortured Betty Tibbits. Where will it stop?"_

_"Shhh, Margo," said her father, with an unspoken warning in his tone:_ Not in front of the child.

_Standing on tiptoes she kissed her mother, and tugged at her father's hand, begging him for her bedtime story. It was a special one, invented just for her, and although she must have heard it a hundred times she never tired of it._

_When the story was done he tucked her in, kissed her and left the room, shutting the door gently behind him. Still wakeful, she lay gazing at the moon, straining to read and interpret it as her father did the magical artefacts entrusted to his care. Its bland face gave away nothing, but its presence comforted her. She imagined it as a great silver shield, protecting her house and the family within it, guarding them from You-Know-Who, the terrible Dark wizard she was only just learning to fear._

_Her eyes were drifting closed when she became suddenly, horribly aware of a presence in the room with her, a lean unfamiliar shape coalescing in the darkness at the foot of her bed. She bolted upright, mouth opening in a shriek of alarm, but a voice spoke a single brusque command:_

_"Silencio!"_

_And she could not make a sound._

_Swiftly the stranger stalked around the bed and caught her by the wrists, pinning her with ease despite her struggles. Staring into her eyes he spoke again, his voice barely more than a whisper:_

_"Listen, and don't be a fool. Your life is in danger."_

_She stopped fighting and froze, gazing back at him in shocked disbelief._

_"The Death Eaters are here. They will kill you if-"_

_From the far end of the hall came a crack of splintering wood, and her mother's hoarse cry._

_"Avada Kedavra!" barked an unfamiliar voice, and the scream ended in a muffled thump._

_The man holding her went still, listening, his sharp features white in the moonlight. All at once he looked very young. Then he turned back to her and continued more urgently:_

_"There's no time. If you want to live, you have to trust me, now, and do what I say._ _Exactly what I say, girl. No matter what happens, no matter what you see. Do you understand?"_

_Daddy, she mouthed, tears welling up in her eyes. Mummy._

_The stranger hesitated, looking at her. Then, in swift decision, he drew a wand from his robes and spoke the words that would change her life forever:_

_"Abrumpo visum."_

#

"On time, I see. You may sit down."

For a moment Maud hesitated, her breath frozen in her throat; then she forced herself into motion and obeyed, taking the chair in front of the desk. Through her new Hogwarts robes, so much lighter than the furs and leathers she had worn at her previous school, she could feel Athena's talons digging into her shoulder, and she barely suppressed her wince.

"I have just been informed-" this said with a slight curl of the lip- "that you have transferred here from Durmstrang to complete your magical education. May I ask why?"

That answer, at least, came easily. "The previous Headmaster of Durmstrang maintained a high academic standard for his students. I do not have the same confidence in the new Headmaster. Also, my uncle wished to have me closer to home, and since he raised me as his ward, I felt it would be ungrateful to disobey." She spoke calmly, her face expressionless, but her heart was pounding.

"And you chose this House." He sounded sceptical.

"It seemed appropriate."

"Appropriate to what?"

"My future... ambitions." And you can make of that, she added mentally, whatever you like.

The Head's brows lifted, but he did not look displeased. "I see. Well, then, welcome to Slytherin, Miss Moody."

She took his hand in hers, feeling the shape of it, the calluses and bones.

"Thank you, Professor Snape."

#

_She does not remember much of what happened after that. Enveloped in an alien darkness, unable to speak, she was but dimly aware as the stranger carried her out to the kitchen, into a storm of threats and arguments and her father's desperate, tear-choked pleading. But through the rough tapestry of sound the stranger's voice ran like a thread of silk, and she clung to it while he bargained for her life:_

_"The girl's barely four years old, and blind on top of it. What are you afraid she'll do to you?" His words were layered with scorn. "Anyway, she's pure-blood: killing her would be a pointless waste."_

_"But if she tells-"_

_"Tells what? That three people whose faces she never saw came to her house and did something everybody will know about tomorrow morning anyway?"_

_"Maudie," gasped her father. "Don't hurt her, please-"_

_Her mother was dead, but she did not know it. Her father was helpless, his glasses shattered and his wand in splinters at his feet, but she could not see that either. She tried to stretch out her arms to him, but the stranger held them in a grip like steel, and she realised that he did not want her to react to what she was hearing, that she must pretend to be deaf as well as blind and dumb._

_"The Aurors will be here any minute," growled a deep voice. "Get out of here, then, and take the brat with you. Leave her somewhere she won't be found for a while, keep 'em busy looking for her."_

_"Obliviate her," said another man. "We can't take chances."_

_"Don't tell me what to do." The stranger's voice was a snarl. "I'll take care of it." His arms tightened around her, she felt his muscles shift, and as the night wind slapped cold across her face she realised he was carrying her out of the house, away from her parents and the only security she had ever known._

_Daddy, she screamed. Daddy!_

_But no one could hear her._

#

"What's your name?" The question was flung in her face, like a challenge to a duel. Maud stood by her half-unpacked trunk, resigned to another verbal battle.

"Maud Moody. And before you ask, yes, I am related to Mad-Eye. He's my uncle."

The other girl paused, evidently shaken, then resumed her pacing. Maud did not bother with the illusion of turning: Athena's gaze could follow the Slytherin no matter where she went.

"Why don't you have a 'mad-eye', then?" taunted the girl. She was tall, though not quite as tall as Maud herself, and as dark as Maud was fair. Her eyes were small and piggy, her mouth twisted into a derisive shape. "You look like you need it more than he does."

"No doubt," said Maud calmly. "But do you have any idea how much that thing cost? If he hadn't been an Auror they'd never have given it to him. And in any case, my uncle lost his eye. I still have both of mine, and I don't relish the thought of having them dug out of my head. Would you?"

She'd put a deliberate emphasis on the words dug out, and the other girl flinched. "No," she snapped with a renewed attempt at bravado, "but at least my eyes work. They're not all creepy like yours."

"You know," said Maud, "I can't remember the last time I saw an advertisement in the Daily Prophet for 'small-minded bully, apply in person'. Shall we start again? I'm your new roommate. And you are...?"

"You're what?" The girl's mouth dropped open. "They told me you were a Gryffindor."

"And you believed them? How would a Gryffindor get in here?"

"Well, I mean, your uncle..."

"Is my father's brother. So?" Maud sat down on the end of her bed and continued her unpacking. "Ask Professor Snape if you don't believe me. He'll tell you I'm in Slytherin, all right."

The girl hung back a moment, sizing her up. Then she mumbled, "Muriel Groggins," and stuck out her hand.

She hadn't apologised, but Maud knew better than to expect it. "Pleased to meet you. This is Athena," and she gestured to the little owl sitting on her shoulder.

"Is that how you get around? Some sort of spell that lets you see through her eyes?"

"Most of the time, yes. But she can't be with me all the time, so I have... a few other tricks as well." Actually, without Athena she would find navigating the corridors of Hogwarts extremely difficult - acute though her other senses might be, even they couldn't compensate for a total loss of vision. But in the middle of a nest of serpents like this, it would be madness to admit it.

"Oh," said Muriel, sounding grudgingly impressed. "So... got your timetable yet?"

And with that, it seemed, a truce had been declared. Within minutes two other girls, seventh-year Slytherins like themselves, drifted into the room and joined the conversation. One was a pretty, round-faced girl with tousled auburn curls, the other blonde and green-eyed like Maud herself, though her features were slightly horsy and there was a noticeable gap between her teeth. They introduced themselves as Annie Barfoot and Lucinda Swann respectively, and within minutes the room was swimming in gossip.

"Did you hear what the Weasley twins did to the Teachers' Bath?"

"Did I? I was right outside the door! You should have heard the yell when Madam Hooch turned on the tap!"

"They're lucky they didn't get sent down. But that's just like the Gryffindors, they get away with everything..."

"Not everything. Snape caught the Weasleys handing out Dizzy Drops to the first years and took ten points from Gryffindor - each."

"Twenty points before classes even start? Ooh, that won't make them popular..."

"Speaking of classes, Snape, and Gryffindors," said Muriel, "I've got Potions first thing this morning. You, too, Maud?"

Maud nodded.

"So does Lucinda. Let's go."

#

_The stranger set her down on the hillside above her house and crouched beside her, gripping her shoulders._

_"Listen," he said, his voice sharp with urgency. "The Death Eaters who were here tonight - they were looking for an artefact. An amulet that your father was supposed to have been studying. But they didn't find it; that's why they took him instead. I'll do what I can, but you have to-"_

_A dull crump echoed through the night, and a wave of heat hit her face. All at once the air was full of the whine of popping timbers and the smell of hot ash. Fire. Her house was burning, and with it all the things she had loved._

_Mummy, she whimpered._

_"Are you listening, girl?" The man shook her fiercely. "I'm going to try to help your father. But I can't do that if I'm dead, or locked up in Azkaban. When the Aurors find you, tell them what happened here tonight, but tell them nothing - nothing - about me. If your uncle asks you how you escaped, tell him you climbed out the window and ran. Do you understand?"_

_In spite of her tears, and the terror of the fire, she nodded. His voice was beautiful, and she trusted it, as she had trusted the moon - and perhaps just as foolishly._

_"Abrogo silentium," said the stranger, and she could speak again, although she had nothing to say. She simply waited, expecting him to give her back her sight, and she was not disappointed:_

_"Reddo visum!"_

_She blinked._

_But nothing happened._

#

"Miss Moody."

Maud's head jerked up at the sound of the Professor's voice, but she could see nothing: Athena had gone to sleep on her shoulder. That was no surprise, considering that it had been a long and busy morning, with precious little sleep for either of them the night before. In the warmth of the Potions class, with cauldrons bubbling and chuckling all around her, Maud had nearly nodded off herself.

"Yes, Professor Snape?" she said.

"If you are quite finished with your nap-" his voice drawled sardonically on the last word- "would you mind informing the class of the properties of hellebore in combination with eye of newt?"

Tired as she was, the answer came automatically: Potions had always been her best subject. "The two should never be combined, as their effects cancel each other out."

She could not see or even guess at his expression, but when he spoke again, the sarcasm was gone. "Excellent. Class, write that down. Make it an equation, if you like: hellebore plus eye of newt equals a waste of your valuable time. Miss Moody-" the words came low, soft as a caress- "I am glad to see that Durmstrang Academy lives up to its reputation."

Her throat was dry. In a hoarse voice she said, "Thank you."

If Snape heard her, he did not acknowledge it. He turned and walked away, saying crisply: "Now. Name two other ingredients which should not be combined, and explain why: Fred Weasley."

"Porridge and owl droppings," came the prompt answer, "because if it happens again my mum'll kill me."

Laughter rippled through the classroom, was cut off by the sound of Snape's hand hitting the desk. "Silence!"

Maud could not suppress a shiver: even at fourteen years' distance, the parallel was too close for comfort. Snape continued with deadly softness, "If in the course of your infamous experiments, Mr. Weasley, you should one day accidentally blow yourself up, I for one will not be even slightly surprised."

"Oh, don't worry," said another voice, sounding nearly identical to Fred's, "neither will he."

At that moment, as if on cue, there was a shriek of rending metal and one of the cauldrons exploded. Instinctively Maud pulled her feet off the floor and took shelter beneath the desk as hot liquid splashed over the classroom and screams filled the air. The assignment was supposed to be just an Enervating Elixir, but with a reaction like that, somebody must have got their proportions seriously wrong.

It was a good five minutes before the chaos was under control, and several students with minor injuries had to be sent up to Madam Pomfrey. Snape gave a savage tongue-lashing to the Gryffindor responsible for the explosion - not, amazingly, one of the Weasley twins, but a sobbing girl who had accidentally knocked her bottle of dried scorpion's tails into her cauldron - and dismissed the class.

Athena had been awakened by the commotion, so Maud could see again. She began gathering up her books, ready to leave, but Snape's voice arrested her.

"Miss Moody. You will remain behind."

"Better watch out," George Weasley whispered as he passed her on his way to the door. "I think he likes you."

"If he tries to take advantage," added Fred gravely, a step behind, "confide in us. We promise we'll do everything in our power-"

"-not to throw up-"

"-or die laughing."

"OUT!" thundered Snape, and the twins, with a last wicked grin, disappeared.

In a whirl of black robes, the professor stalked to the door and shut it firmly. Then he turned and looked at her, his dark eyes searching her face. What he saw, or expected to see, she did not know: but at last he seemed satisfied and sat down at his desk, shuffling aside a stack of assignments and taking out a parchment from the bottom of the pile.

"It is evident, Miss Moody," he said, "that your high marks in your Potions classes at Durmstrang were not unwarranted. Your knowledge of the subject far exceeds that of your classmates - even taking into account the considerable, though idiotically squandered, talent of the Weasley twins - and I can see that you are likely to find this year's studies tedious unless you are presented with some additional challenge."

She said nothing, merely watched him through Athena's eyes. His head was bent over the parchment in his hand, lank black hair falling about his face. He looked, she thought, like a man exhausted, and not merely by the demands of teaching.

"As you will see here," he said, turning the paper around and pushing it toward her, "I have made a list of some independent study projects which may interest you. If you require assistance I will make myself available for consultation, as my schedule permits. But I expect you are... quite capable."

She watched him a moment longer, then inclined her head toward the list, Athena instantly following her cue and copying the gesture so that she could read it. Veritaserum, she read. Wolfsbane Potion. Nerve-Regenerating Potion-

Her breath stopped.

"And while you are deciding, Miss Moody," said Snape quietly, "would you tell me again why you chose to be in Slytherin?"

She closed her hand around the parchment, crumpling it between her fingers. Did he know what was in her mind, or had he only guessed? Well, she would have to take the chance. If he had not changed, he would understand. "Because I want to be an Auror," she said. "And the first rule of survival is: know thine enemy."

For a long moment he met her gaze, or Athena's, without moving. When he spoke at last his beautiful voice was rough:

"Not all Slytherins are the enemy, Miss Moody."

"I know," she said. "One of them once saved my life."

"And severed your optic nerves in the process," he snapped, with a savagery she knew to be directed at himself, not at her. "One hasty moment, one wrong Latin verb - and to think I used to believe in the _benefits_ of a classical education."

#

_He tried again, using the same phrase and different ones, but her sight did not return. She was bewildered by his failure, and though she could not see his face she knew that he, too, was baffled. Again and again he spoke the words of command, his voice cracking with frustration and eventually with anger, but at last he gave up._

_"I will fix this," he said flatly. "In time. But there is nothing I can do for you now."_

_She had tried, until then, to be brave. But this disappointment, on top of her exhaustion and fear, was too much. She burst into hiccuping sobs and buried her face in the stranger's robes. He smelled of roots and dried herbs, like her mother's pantry, and as she wept she felt his awkward, feather-light touch upon her hair._

#

"Do you really think a potion will work?" she asked him.

His black eyes narrowed. "Are you prepared to try?"

"If you'll help me."

For the second time that morning, he extended his hand to her; for the second time she took it, and held it as though it were precious.

"Miss Moody," he said. "I will."


	2. Purgatorio

"Are you ready?"

Her lips were dry, and her knees trembled. But the calmness in his voice, the absolute confidence in her abilities as well as his own, anchored her. They had researched this potion for weeks, adding and subtracting ingredients, starting over no less than five times before they were satisfied. If it failed, it failed, but at least it would not kill her.

"Yes," she said. Then she lifted the goblet, and drank.

Not surprisingly, the potion tasted vile: most potions did if they were any good at all. A shudder ran through her body as the hot liquid roiled within her. Then, slowly, she raised her head.

In the semidarkness of the dungeon she could see Snape's pallid, angular features as clearly as though it were noon - which meant, ironically, that her sight had not returned. Whatever the potion had done to her, she was still looking at the world through Athena's eyes.

The little owl, sensing her mistress's disappointment, bobbed on Maud's shoulder and hooted mournfully. Snape spat out a curse and dropped the ladle back into the cauldron. "It should have worked."

"I must have had the proportions wrong," Maud told him, swallowing back the bitterness in her throat. "A little more extract of mandrake might have done it, or-"

"No." Her teacher's voice was flat. "I double-checked your recipe myself. There was nothing wrong with the regenerative ingredients."

"Then I'll have to go back to the library again, and research the combinations. Make sure I've eliminated all the potential antipathies."

He did not contradict her, but the hard line of his mouth betrayed his scepticism. Severus Snape was one of the best potion-makers in the wizarding world; if she'd overlooked anything in her recipe he would surely have found and corrected the error before this.

But what was the alternative? To give up, admit defeat, resign herself to permanent blindness and the death of her lifelong dream? That wasn't in her character, any more than it was in his. She'd worked too hard, suffered too much, to surrender her ambition now.

"It's late," she said at last. "I'd better get back to the dormitory." Numbly she turned to go, but Snape's hand came down on her shoulder - the left shoulder, opposite Athena's habitual perch - and she stopped.

"This is only the beginning, Miss Moody," he told her. There was no gentleness in his voice, and she was grateful for it: if he had spoken softly to her, she might have broken down. "There are other recipes, other ingredients, as yet untried, and I have every confidence that we _will_ find the right one."

"Yes," she said, not moving, not looking back. "Thank you."

His long fingers tightened briefly, then let her go. She walked out of the dungeon into the flickering torchlight of the corridor, straightening her shoulders and lifting her head, assuming once again her habitual mantle of indifference. No one, seeing her, would imagine that anything of consequence had happened to her that evening, or that behind those green unseeing eyes lay a pool of tears.

#

_"They'll never let you do it, Maudie."_

_Her uncle, grizzled and maimed from his long career fighting dark wizards, paced up and down in front of the fire, his wooden leg clumping on the hearthstones. "When you're an Auror you need all your wits and senses about you, and then some. You've got the wits, girl, I don't doubt it; but Athena's no substitute for your own two eyes."_

_"Why not?" she protested. "Her sight's better than any human's. With her I can see three hundred and sixty degrees without turning around, even in the dark. That's almost as good as what they gave you."_

_The eye to which she had just referred, glassy and brilliant blue, swivelled suddenly upon her, as though he were trying to see through to the marrows of her bones. "But my mad-eye doesn't need sleep, Maudie, and it doesn't fly away. Athena's a brave little owl, but she has her limits. If they took her from you, you'd be helpless."_

_"I'm not helpless." Her small hands clenched on the arms of the chair, and she met his unnerving gaze with a resolve that made her seem older than her ten years. "I can find my way, even without Athena. I've been practising-"_

_"Getting around the house is one thing. Fighting Dark wizards is another." He tapped his nose, where a noticeable chunk was missing. "Trust me, girl, I know."_

_She bit her lip hard, determined not to cry. There was no mistaking the note in Uncle Alastor's voice: as far as he was concerned, the matter was closed. How could he do this to her, when he, of all people, ought to understand?_

_Physically there was little resemblance between them, but beneath the skin they were two of a kind: both painfully aware of the evil in the world, driven by a passion for justice, pursuing their cause with a single-minded zeal that to ordinary wizards seemed excessive and even insane. After living with her uncle for six years Maud knew, better than almost anyone, what it cost to be an Auror._

_And it was bitter medicine to be told the price was too high for her to pay._

#

"-can't just spend all year on the snackboxes, we need new ideas too."

"Hang on, I've got one - Lobe-Lengthening Lozenges. A couple of sucks and your ears start growing-"

"Too much like the Ton-Tongue Toffee."

"So what? We never did get to try those out on anyone but Dudley."

"What about Scintillating Soda? Did we give up on that one?"

"Oh, yeah, I'd forgotten about that. Bet the girls'd love it-"

Maud pushed another stack of books between herself and the Weasley twins, trying to block out the murmur of their voices and the scratching of their quills, but it was no good. She couldn't concentrate.

"Would you mind keeping it down?" she said.

Fred looked at George. George looked at Fred. Then they both turned back to her and said in unison, "Yeah, we would, actually."

"Matter of fact," added George, "we _are_ keeping it down. Your ears are too good, that's the problem."

"Which is why," said Fred, "you need our very own patented Deafening Delight Chewing Gum." He held up an imaginary package. "One chew, and all that annoying background noise simply vanishes away. Of course, so do all the sounds you might actually _want_ to hear, but the effects only last for, oh, half an hour or so."

"Nah," interrupted George, "two hours. Enough to get through one of Professor Binns' classes. The first-years'll eat it up."

"Good one!" said Fred, and scribbled a note on his parchment.

Maud closed her book and pushed the heels of her hands against her eyes. She'd been studying for hours, and she could feel Athena's weariness as well as her own. " _Abiungo_ ," she whispered, and the little owl, freed from their magical bond, launched herself into the air with a hoot of gratitude. Athena wouldn't stay away long: but she needed the chance to stretch her wings, and would make the most of it.

"Hey," said George, "you're well up on your potions ingredients - can I ask you something?"

As a Slytherin, she ought to have ignored him. In fact, she shouldn't be sitting here at all, because Slytherins in general didn't occupy the same space as Gryffindors if either could help it. On the other hand, she had only joined her House this year; and the Weasley twins were known rule-breakers and troublemakers of a sort that even a Slytherin might approve.

"Go ahead," she said.

"Do you know of a substitute for powdered basilisk scales?"

"Something cheaper, you mean?"

"Yeah. At two Galleons the gram, bang goes our profit margin."

Maud gave it a moment's thought. "Medusa root," she said at last. "But you'll have to use quite a bit to get the same result, and it's got a bad aftertaste. You'd need a strong flavour to counteract it. Like black liquorice."

"Oh, I _like_ her," said George.

"What's it for?" Maud asked. "Petrifying Pops?"

"That's it!" More scratching as Fred's quill raced across the parchment. "Thanks, we'd been stuck for a name for those things..."

"Better not ask her any more," warned George. "We're going to have to start paying her."

"You forget," said Maud, "I'm a Slytherin. Mischief is its own reward."

"Oh, I _really_ like her." She could feel the warmth of George's breath as he leaned across the table toward her. "Where have you been all my life, Maud Moody? Aside from somewhere in northern Europe studying the Dark Arts, I mean."

"Hey," said Fred, "I saw her first."

"Did not."

Neither one of them was serious, of course: the Weasley twins almost never were. And Maud knew better than to imagine her looks were anything outstanding. Still, being fought over, even in jest, was a new and flattering experience. "Now, now, boys," she said with mock severity. "What makes you think either one of you is good enough for me?"

"You're right." George's chair creaked as he sat back with a theatrical sigh. "How could we possibly hope to compete with the suave, the debonair, the ever-charming and beguiling Professor Snape? The romance of the smoking cauldron, days of wand-light and bats' noses-"

Maud choked. "What exactly," she said with an effort, "is that supposed to mean?"

George drew breath to reply, but his twin was quicker. "Nah, it's nothing," he told her. "You're Snape's prize student, that's all."

"That," added George, "and those extra hours you've been spending in the dungeon-"

"Shut up, you git," hissed Fred.

Maud waved his concern aside. She'd regained her composure, and felt only a little light-headed. "You've been cheating," she said. "You were supposed to wait until they published my confession in _Witch Weekly._ _'Oh Severus,' I cried, swooning into his manly arms_ , etc. But you're too late, it's over."

"Oh?" said George.

"I'm afraid so." She assumed a tragic expression. "I was just the latest in a long string of broken hearts-"

Fred sputtered. "All right, lay off, you win."

"I thought that one pretty much took the prize for Stupidest Hogwarts Rumour," admitted George.

"You'd be pretty much right," said Maud.

She had barely finished speaking when she heard the soft whirr of Athena's wings, felt the prick of claws as the owl landed on her shoulder. _"Iungo,"_ she murmured, invoking the spell that harnessed Athena's vision to hers, and the Weasley twins lurched back into her vision.

And so, to her sickening dismay, did someone else.

He stood several paces behind the Weasleys, his dark eyes regarding her coldly, his face expressionless. How long had he been there? She opened her mouth, but he turned in a swirl of black and melted into the shadows before she could speak.

"What?" asked Fred. "You look like you've just seen the Bloody Baron."

George grinned. "Or even worse, Snape."

"I have to go," Maud said abruptly. She pushed back her chair, gathered an armful of books at random, and hurried out of the library, leaving the Weasley twins staring in her wake.

#

_Somehow her disappointment must have betrayed itself, because Uncle Alastor stopped pacing and crouched beside her chair, laying his scarred hands over hers with that sudden, haunting gentleness that never failed to take her by surprise. "Don't lose hope, Maudie," he said. "There's more than one way to fight the Dark. And even if you're not ready to take on a Death Eater in single combat, I trust Athena's eyes and your ears as much as my own. If you're willing, I've an assignment for you."_

_Maud watched him warily. "What is it?"_

_"There's a man I need someone to keep an eye on, a Death Eater who got away. He's not much more than a bully and a coward, and if Voldemort came back he'd probably-" He stopped and cleared his throat, as though suddenly remembering who he was talking to, and continued a little awkwardly, "-er, wet himself- before haring off in the opposite direction. But I don't trust him, and I don't like what he's up to. So-"_

_"Uncle," said Maud with a faint note of reproach, "aren't you supposed to be retired?"_

_He gave her a sudden, lopsided grin. "You know me better than that. Will you do it?"_

_"Who is he?"_

_"He's just been made Headmaster of a school called Durmstrang. A rumour's been circulating for years that Durmstrang students learn a good deal more about the Dark Arts than just defence. It may or may not have been the truth before, but if Igor Karkaroff is in charge, I'll bet my good eye it's true now."_

_Maud was silent, weighing his words. At last she said, "You want me to go to Durmstrang."_

_"To be honest, Maudie, no. I'd rather you went to Hogwarts, where you belong. But there's no more miserable creature than a hawk in a cage, whether the cage is gilded or not. If you're determined to strike a blow against the Dark, I'm giving you the chance to help me do it. But it's going to be hard work, make no mistake. So if you find you'd rather not see it through, just say the word and I'll bring you home." He paused, sat back on his heels, and said, "That's the best I can offer you."_

#

She found Muriel in the common room, absorbed in a battered volume whose painted cover featured a muscular wizard embracing a swooning witch, their robes fluttering in the breeze and threatening to fall off. It was the sort of thing Muriel usually read.

"So," said Maud, sitting down in the chair opposite her and keeping her voice level with an effort. "Which was it, spite or jealousy?"

Muriel gave an exaggerated sigh and snapped the book closed. _Passion's Wild Spell,_ flashed the letters on its spine, before fading away. "Now what are you babbling about?"

"Only you, Lucinda, and Annie knew I was working with Snape after classes. With those two around, I wouldn't be surprised if the other Slytherins knew as well. But only you would deliberately spread the rumour outside our House, and make it sound like something more than an independent project-"

"Well, isn't it?" Muriel sneered. "I've seen the way he looks at you, the way he treats you in class. And then there's you, with your prissy little _, Yes, Professor Snape,_ and _No, Professor Snape,_ and _Can I help you, Professor Snape?_ You just think you're special, don't you? Coming from Durmstrang, showing off, trying to make the rest of us Slytherins look stupid. And now you're hanging around with the Weasleys - who do you think you are?"

Either Muriel had just come from the library herself, or she had a remarkably good spy network. "I talked to the twins for all of _five minutes,_ " said Maud flatly. "Are you going to start a rumour I'm having an affair with one of them too? Be serious, Muriel. The Weasleys are pure-blood; I can have a conversation with them if I want to."

"They're Gryffindors! Blood traitors and Muggle-lovers! No self-respecting Slytherin-"

"Oh, I _see,"_ said Maud, as though light had just dawned. "Is it Fred or George you're jealous about? Give me a chance, I might put in a word-"

Muriel made a strangled sound, dropped the book and sprang for her throat.

As they crashed to the floor, Athena launched herself off Maud's shoulder and circled the two girls, flapping and hooting anxiously. Maud couldn't blame her for getting out of the way: Muriel was more enraged than she'd have believed possible. Even as she fought to hold the other girl back, her mind was racing. Had she inadvertently touched a nerve? Was Muriel really carrying a torch for Fred or George - or Snape?

"Fight! Fight!" cried a chorus of voices, followed by the sounds of running feet as the other Slytherins in the dormitory rushed to see the spectacle. Muriel had a double handful of Maud's hair and seemed to be trying to pull it out by the roots: Maud, disoriented by the whirling vision of herself that came through Athena's eyes above, struggled futilely to get her wand free of her robes. Students were not supposed to duel, but when it came to self-defence -

With a sudden wrench she twisted free of Muriel's grip, levelled her wand, and shouted the first spell that came into her head:

"Formido!"

Instantly Muriel dropped away from her, screaming and covering her face with her hands. Maud scrambled to her feet, ready to speak the counter-spell, but a voice came, cold and harsh, from behind her:

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Sir," gasped Maud, turning to him. "She-"

"Silence," he snapped at her. Ignoring for the moment Muriel's high-pitched wails, he turned to the other Slytherins gathered around. "What happened?"

"I saw it all, Professor," said a drawling voice, and Draco Malfoy shouldered his way to the front of the crowd. "Groggins was reading a book, minding her own business, and Moody here came in and deliberately provoked her, trying to start a fight-"

Maud stared at him, breathing hard. "That's not true."

"Thank you, Draco," said Snape. "All of you, you are dismissed to your rooms. I will deal with this... incident... myself."

Reluctantly, the other Slytherins filed out. Still, they would be listening to whatever happened next, and Maud had no hope that this matter would truly be dealt with in private.

"I am extremely disappointed in you, Miss Moody," said Snape. His voice was soft, but there was no gentleness in it, no hope of mercy. He waved his wand at Muriel, said _"Fortitudo!"_ and she collapsed to the floor, panting.

"Go to your room, Miss Groggins," he told her. "Rest assured I will address Miss Moody's conduct as it deserves."

"Professor," said Maud desperately. "You can't possibly believe -"

He cut her off. "Draco Malfoy has been an outstanding member of Slytherin House for the past four years. I would trust his judgement even had I not seen your-" his lip curled- " _misbehaviour_ \- for myself. I see, Miss Moody, that I have been much mistaken in you. It seems that I will have to lower my standards where you are concerned, since you have proven so unequal to them."

Maud stared at him, unable to believe what she was hearing.

"Indeed," Snape continued icily, "I begin to question whether you belong in this House at all. Since you seem unable to form friendships here, or conduct yourself in a manner that befits a Slytherin, I am considering putting in a request to the Headmaster to have you re-Sorted. Publicly."

She had never been Sorted in the first place, and they both knew it, but the threat was real. The Sorting Hat was as likely to put her in Ravenclaw - or worse, Gryffindor - as anything else, and then all her work would be ruined.

No sooner had she spoken those flippant words in the library than she had regretted them; but she had never imagined that they could have made such a difference in Snape's attitude toward her. It was as though everything they had shared - the trust, the friendship, the common cause - had disintegrated in an instant. Was his pride that fragile? After all he had done and endured, she could hardly believe it, and yet there seemed no other explanation.

"Report immediately to Mr. Filch for your detention," he told her. "I will notify him to expect you, and he will no doubt find something appropriately unpleasant for you to do." With a swift gesture he lifted Athena from her shoulder. "And I shall return your owl when Mr. Filch notifies me that you have finished."

Seeing through Athena's eyes when the little owl was in a different location would be so disorienting, it would be even worse than being blind: and Snape must have known it. Blinking against the threatening tears, she murmured, _"Abiungo,"_ and let the darkness swallow her.

"You will find your own way to Mr. Filch's office," said the beautiful, pitiless voice of her mentor. "You _can_ do that much without Athena, I trust?"

It would take her hours, unless she found someone to help her. But he must know that, too.

"Yes, Professor Snape," she whispered.

#

_Ever since she had learned that not only her mother but her father too was dead, she had pictured herself confronting evil, wand in hand, blazing with a righteous anger that no Dark wizard could mistake. She would not be able to do that at Durmstrang, not if she wanted to remain there. But did she dare to do any less?_

_As usual, Uncle Alastor anticipated her thoughts. "There's one thing you've got to remember, Maud. When you fight the Dark, fight hard. Stand firm for what you know to be right: no apologies, no compromise. But whatever happens, don't turn into the thing you're fighting. Be fierce if you have to, but never let them make you cruel."_

#

As she stumbled down the corridor, feeling her way blindly along the cold, dank stone, her uncle's words re-echoed in her ears. _Never let them make you cruel..._

Why _Formido,_ of all the spells she could have chosen? Maud had always avoided using the Dark Arts: thanks to her time at Durmstrang the knowledge was there, but she had determined never to take advantage of it. Still, casting the Shapeless Dread against a fellow human was very close to the line... and it had been the first spell that came to her.

Or what about the library, where she had mocked Snape in front of the Weasleys, letting them think she respected and cared for him as little as they did? His reputation had been at stake as well as her own, of course; but to be honest, she had thought only of herself. For the same selfish reason, she had sat through Snape's classes day after day, watching him taunting and mistreating the Gryffindors with every appearance of relish, all the while saying nothing.

In her mind she had made excuses for both of them, telling herself Snape's vindictiveness was an act, that he needed to appear cruel in order to maintain his reputation, just as she had to remain aloof in order to maintain hers. After all, he had saved her life when she was a child, at enormous risk to himself; and he had worked hard since her transfer to Hogwarts to give her the help and support she needed. She had good reason to believe in him, in spite of all appearances to the contrary. But now that he had turned against her, she could not help but wonder if she had put her faith in an illusion, given her trust to a lie...

She was just feeling her way through the archway that would take her to the stairs when a deep, warm voice spoke out of the blackness, and she froze.

"Miss Moody. May I offer you my arm?"

It was Albus Dumbledore.


	3. Paradiso

Even blind, Maud could tell the difference between the way to Filch's office and the way Dumbledore was leading her. "Sir," she protested, "I'm supposed to be doing detention-"

"I am aware of that, Miss Moody," he said gravely. "Nevertheless, I would like a word with you first."

Maud let her breath out in a sigh. "Yes, Headmaster."

In silence they made their way through the corridors, then rounded a corner and stopped. "Treacle fudge," said Dumbledore, and led her forward, onto the ever-spiralling staircase that ascended to his office.

"Now," he said, guiding her through the door and closing it behind them, "please sit down and make yourself comfortable."

She had barely lowered herself into the chair when she heard a musical rustle of feathers and a solid weight landed on her shoulder, causing her to lurch, startled, to one side. Dumbledore's phoenix was a great deal heavier than Athena, and yet his talons gripped her so gently that she felt no pain.

"That is very handsome of you, Fawkes," said Dumbledore. "Maud, if you wish, Fawkes will act as your eyes while you are here."

She was startled. "But I can't. With a new host it takes time, and preparation..."

"Not with Fawkes," said Dumbledore. "Try it and see."

Maud bit her lip, sceptical but unwilling to contradict him. _"Iungo,"_ she murmured-

-and her world exploded into light.

Seeing through the phoenix's eyes was unlike anything Maud had experienced before. Everything in Dumbledore's office seemed deeper, richer, somehow more meaningful than it had on her first visit several weeks ago: the colours more vivid, the details more intricate and beautiful. Dumbledore himself was surrounded by a warm golden glow, and his eyes twinkled like constellations.

"Better?" he said.

Maud nodded, too dazzled to speak.

"Good." He sat down behind the desk opposite her, and steepled his fingers in front of his long nose. "Now, my dear, your uncle Alastor has expressed some concerns about your welfare here at Hogwarts." He paused. "And in light of today's events, I am inclined to agree with him. You are evidently unhappy in Slytherin, and I wonder if you might be reconsidering your choice."

His gaze was kindly, but piercing. She wanted to look away from it, but Fawkes would not let her. At last she said quietly, "I am, sir. The reasons for which I chose Slytherin are... less clear to me now."

#

_"It's good to see you again, Maudie."_

_Her uncle was thinner and greyer than she remembered, and the pale shadows under his eyes spoke of the long months of confinement he had endured. She had wondered why he had not written to her in so long, when all reports said he was in good health and apparently well established at Hogwarts: only now, when it was too late, had she learned the horrifying truth._

_Part of her blamed herself. She hadn't been there for him, and she should have been. Thanks to the accident that had put paid to her first year of schooling, she had come of age six months before any of her classmates - there was no reason she couldn't have been part of the delegation for the Triwizard Tournament. But on the qualifying examinations she had deliberately held back. At Hogwarts, or so she had reasoned, Karkaroff would be under her uncle's supervision, so there was no need for her there. And if she stayed behind at Durmstrang in its Headmaster's absence, she might finally get the chance to look at his secret files..._

_It had been an excuse, of course, and a lame one. The truth was, she didn't want to see Hogwarts, didn't want to know what she had been missing all these years. It had taken her a long time to fit in at Durmstrang, and even now her friends there were few: the chance to compare it with another school might well entangle her in bitterness and regret._

_She had never anticipated that not going to Hogwarts would burden her with a regret more bitter still. If she had gone, she might have seen through young Barty Crouch's deception, exposed the false Mad-Eye before he could carry out his plans. And then Uncle Alastor would not have suffered so long, so alone._

_Her expression must have given her away, because he took her hands and squeezed them reassuringly. "None of that. You couldn't have known. But your work at Durmstrang's done, now, and I want you to come home. Karkaroff may have done a bunk, but there's an even slipperier eel I've got my eye on now, at Hogwarts. You could help me there."_

_If she had ever thought of refusing him, of giving up her double life and coming in from the cold, she could not do it now. "Who is it?" she asked._

_"Another Death Eater who walked free. Name of Severus Snape..."_

_#_

"I see," said Dumbledore. "And so, it would appear, does Professor Snape. You do know that he has recommended you be publicly Sorted?"

"He told me he was considering it, yes." Of all his cruelties, that one hurt the worst. Humiliation she could deal with, perhaps even turn to her advantage. But a public Sorting would take away something she valued far more than her pride.

"Why do you think he would make such a suggestion?"

 _To hurt me. To drive me away. To punish me for mocking him in front of the Weasleys._ "I can't say, sir. He seemed to think I was - unworthy to be in Slytherin House."

"Or that you had failed to conduct yourself in the manner he requires from his most favoured students. The two are not necessarily the same."

Maud frowned. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Dumbledore smiled gently behind his white beard. "Do you play chess, Miss Moody?" He indicated a board on a low table to his right, where a match was evidently in progress. "I admit to being a somewhat indifferent player, but I do enjoy the game."

To all appearances he had changed the subject; but Maud knew better than to underestimate him, or to think that anything he might say would be irrelevant. Curiosity piqued, she turned in her chair - this time Fawkes followed her cue, and his gaze turned with her - to regard the chessboard with its complement of white and black pieces.

It was obvious at first glance that black outnumbered white, and appeared to be winning. Just how this had happened, however, was not clear to her until Dumbledore tapped the board lightly with his wand and the pieces sprang into action, galloping back to their home positions and then, move by move, replaying the game up to its present point.

She watched the cycle three times, fascinated. White had to be Dumbledore: a conservative player, protecting his pawns as long as possible, and only reluctantly surrendering them. Black, on the other hand, was bold and ruthless, sacrificing pieces without hesitation to gain a tactical advantage, and all the while stealthily directing a single, vulnerable-looking pawn across the board. In two moves, Maud realised, that pawn would become a queen: and what little advantage White still retained would be lost.

There was no need to ask who Dumbledore's chess partner might be. If he had signed his name across the board his personality could not have been more evident.

"If you will excuse me a moment," said Dumbledore, "I have a craving for tea. Would you like some?"

"Yes," said Maud. "Thank you."

He smiled gently at her and left.

When he had gone, Maud rose from her chair and walked about, hugging her elbows and shivering a little, although the room was far from cold. Dumbledore's office was much the same as it had been on her first visit, except for one thing: the Sorting Hat, sitting on a shelf behind the desk. The rip along its brim grinned at her, and her stomach gave a lurch: did she dare?

She took one hesitant step toward the hat, then another. At any moment she expected Fawkes to trill a protest, but he merely settled himself more firmly on her shoulder, rubbing his silky feathers against her cheek. "All right then," she said aloud, and with a decisive gesture picked up the Sorting Hat and set it on her head.

"Interesting," came a thoughtful murmur from beneath the brim. "I don't believe we've met before. Let me see... Courage there, to be sure; but then there's cleverness as well, and no doubt of it, you're a hard worker... Oh my, but you're an ambitious one, aren't you? Nothing's going to hold you back, and you'll do whatever it takes to get there, no matter who or what stands in your way... Yes, I do think, no mistake here, it's got to be SLYTHERIN!"

The last word came as a shout that echoed around the chamber, and Maud whipped the hat off her head so fast she nearly unseated Fawkes. She was trembling all over, and it was all she could do to make it back to the chair before her legs gave way.

"Well," said a voice behind her, very softly. "That was unexpected. But then, I did not anticipate that I would find _you_ here, Miss Moody."

Her hands clenched, hard, on the arms of the chair, but she did not move. Nor did she speak. Snape stepped into her line of vision, stood looking down at her a moment with an unreadable expression on his face, then turned to the chessboard and directed the black pawn forward. It picked up its little skirts and hurried into the square he had indicated, as though fearing the consequences of disobedience.

"Ah, there you are, Severus," said Dumbledore, emerging from a side room with a heavily laden tray on which were a steaming silver teapot, a plate of scones dripping with jam, and three china cups. "Just in time for tea."

#

_"Dumbledore trusts him," said her uncle, "and whatever some might say, Dumbledore's never been a fool. And I won't deny Snape's made himself useful to our side, here and there. But I've been watching the man all summer, and from what I can see he's no different now than he ever was - a sneering, oily-mouthed bully. Besides, a man who served Voldemort once could serve him again, and I'm not so sure Snape is that much more trustworthy than Karkaroff. No, Maudie, Snape needs someone at Hogwarts to keep an eye on him, and you're the best I could wish for."_

_"It won't be easy," said Maud after a pause. "At Durmstrang nobody knew or cared who my uncle might be. But at Hogwarts - don't you think it'll look a little odd if Mad-Eye Moody's niece ends up in Slytherin?"_

_"Not when it's known you spent the last six years at Durmstrang - and especially not if I throw you out of the house first." He grinned. "I can always take you back, grudgingly, after the school year's over."_

_She nodded, accepting the logic without returning his smile. "And once I've been there a week or two, a couple of Howlers from you should get the message out to anyone who might have missed it."_

_"That's my girl," he said. "So you'll do it, then."_

_"Yes."_

_"I knew you wouldn't let me down." He squeezed her hand again. "I'm tired, Maudie. That Crouch business last year took a lot out of me, and this summer's not been easy. But having you at Hogwarts will put my mind at ease. Dumbledore's a good Headmaster - the best. He'll look after you."_

_"That'll be nice for a change," said Maud wryly, and Uncle Alastor laughed._

_#_

"Headmaster," said Snape in a flat voice, "may I ask what Miss Moody is doing here? I directed her to report to Mr. Filch-"

"And I redirected her," said Dumbledore, calmly pouring the tea. "With felicitous results, as you have just heard. It is evident that Miss Moody does belong in Slytherin House, after all."

 _And what does that say about me?_ Maud wanted to ask, but with Snape standing a foot away from her the question was not exactly politic.

Dumbledore, however, anticipated her: "Ambition is a potent thing, Maud. It can lead to noble deeds, or devour itself in a selfish hunger for power. Single-mindedness in pursuit of one's ends can likewise be a great strength - or a great weakness. It is true that Slytherin has turned out more evil wizards than any of the other Hogwarts houses. But-" he handed her a cup and saucer- "it has turned out some great ones, too."

Maud was silent, not trusting herself to speak. She poured milk into her tea and stirred it.

"Have a scone, Severus," said Dumbledore, passing him the plate.

"No, thank you," said Snape shortly. She could feel his gaze on her, black and relentless. "Headmaster, regardless of Miss Moody's house allegiance, her conduct of this afternoon has yet to be addressed-"

"Ah, yes. An excellent point." Dumbledore slathered a scone with jam and clotted cream, tucked it into a napkin, and rose, teacup in hand. "And since as her Head of House that responsibility falls to you, I'll leave you to discuss the matter." He stepped over to the chessboard and made one seemingly thoughtless move, then bundled himself out the door and closed it behind him.

There was a long and awful pause, during which Maud stared at her cup and Snape said nothing. Then at last his silky voice broke the silence:

"It appears that I cannot remove you from Slytherin, Miss Moody. But as long as you remain under my authority I will require you to conduct yourself in a manner appropriate to a member of my House. Is that clear?"

She raised her head, eyes burning. "You know what really happened with Muriel," she said. "And you know why."

"It would not have happened," said Snape levelly, "had you not been conversing with the Weasley twins in an unfortunate and very public manner. If you will not behave like a Slytherin, you must not expect me to treat you like one."

"I didn't mean to insult you," she said, but a tear escaped from the corner of one eye, and as it made its cold way down her cheek she realised there was no point trying to hide anything from him any more. "I never imagined people were talking about - I didn't know what to say."

Snape stared at her a moment, then threw back his head and laughed, a sound so unfamiliar and so unexpected that she was stunned. "Do you mean that's what's been worrying you?" He took a handkerchief out of his sleeve, tossed it at her with a flick of the wrist. "Dry your tears, Miss Moody. I regret to say that you have _not_ succeeded in breaking my stony heart."

"Then why-?"

He shook his head. "Don't be a fool, girl. Did you really think hearing myself dismissed as a romantic prospect would come as a shock? Or that I am ignorant of what I see in the mirror every morning? Rest assured, I do not require or even wish my students to find me attractive. My concerns about your conversation with the Weasleys were of quite another sort."

Maud gazed at him, speechless. There could be no question he was telling the truth, but could she really have been so - she hated even to think it, but there was no other word - blind?

Snape continued, his face hardening, "I cannot afford to be associated with a student who keeps company with Gryffindors - least of all those who are friends of Harry Potter. If you had thought it through more carefully, Miss Moody, you would have realised that. Your conversation with the Weasleys put me in a dangerous position. I had no choice but to disassociate myself from you publicly, until you recognised your error and corrected it - or else abandoned the goal for which you joined Slytherin House and returned to ordinary life." He paused. "I had reason to believe... that you might be better to choose the latter."

"Because they'll never let me be an Auror as long as I'm blind." Her throat was tight. "And your best attempts to cure me have failed."

"Yes." There was a slight hesitation before the word, and she could sense that he was not telling her the whole truth. But she knew better than to press him for more.

"Do you know that my uncle sent me here to spy on you?"

"Of course." He bared his teeth in another, bleaker smile. "I took it as a compliment to my skills. And as proof that you had never betrayed my confidence yet, and were not likely to do so now."

She said nothing, her hands knotting and unknotting the black handkerchief in her lap.

"But there is one thing you will have to learn," he said. "With you and with Professor Dumbledore I may be somewhat at ease, because you know what I am. But to the rest of the world I show a different face, and if you expect kindness from me - especially toward students of mixed or Muggle blood, or whose parents were known for their opposition of the Dark Lord - you will be disappointed. There are numerous Death Eaters still at large, many of them in positions of power. They all know what I was like when I served the Dark Lord, and if for one moment I appear to have changed, I will lose what little influence I have among them. Draco Malfoy is not the only student at Hogwarts whose testimony can make or break my reputation."

"I can't argue with your logic," she told him quietly. "But I wonder how you sleep at night."

Snape pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes, the first wholly unguarded movement she had ever seen from him. "Asphodel and wormwood," he said. "In small but effective doses."

#

_The moment he invited her into his office, the moment he spoke the first few words to her, she had known. In that moment her world had reversed itself, and landed on a shaky new foundation: the man she had been sent to watch, the former Death Eater her uncle so distrusted, was the same man who had once saved her life. The years had eaten away the softness from his face, and his hair was longer than she remembered. But the voice had been unmistakable._

_He looked hollow, she had found herself thinking. As though some hidden cancer of suffering gnawed at him from the inside, stripping him to sinew and bone. She thought she knew what it was, and her heart went out to him: a double life was a heavy burden, and the pressure on him must be greater than anything she had ever had to bear._

_She had decided, in that moment, that she would not let him carry it alone._

_#_

Maud rose from her chair and walked to him, laid one hand on his arm. She felt him flinch, but he did not move. "My uncle told me once," she said softly, "that whatever happens, you mustn't become the thing you're fighting."

"It's too late," he said flatly. "I have never had opportunity to be anything else. I always knew that the Dark Lord would return. Whoever Severus Snape might have been without him, you and I may never know."

She gave him a steady look, then turned and walked back to the chessboard. With one determined movement she picked up the black pawn, ignoring its startled squeak, and set it down on the final square. "Why don't we wait and see?" she said. "Together."

His lips parted, the harsh lines of his face easing, and for a moment he looked as young as he had the night they first met. Then, unaccountably, he started to laugh. "As a dramatic statement, Maud," he said, "that was effective. But I wouldn't do that, if I were you. Dumbledore has us in check."

She looked back, surprised, and found that he was right. Embarrassed, she put the pawn back where it had been. "It's your game," she said. "Obviously I still have much to learn."

The amusement on Snape's face shaded back into seriousness. He crossed to her, took her hand lightly between his own. "I will teach you," he said, "whatever you need to know. And if we survive-"

Fawkes launched himself from her shoulder, landed on the high back of Dumbledore's chair. Disoriented, she saw herself, and Snape, through the phoenix's pellucid gaze: dark and fair, man and girl, teacher and student: opposites, yet in purpose one.

"Then," she said, turning her face up toward him with a smile, "my uncle will kill you."

He dropped her hand abruptly. "I'd forgotten about him."

"I was joking!"

"I wasn't."

"I think," said Dumbledore's voice from behind them, "it would be prudent to take Maud's uncle into your confidence, Severus. If Miss Moody is to remain under your tutelage, then she and Alastor will have to stage a complete parting of the ways, and I think it safe to say that she would not be willing to do so without his co-operation."

Snape looked exasperated. "Headmaster, _must_ you?"

"Hand-holding between teachers and students," said Dumbledore placidly, walking into the room and handing a sleepy-looking Athena to Maud, "is expressly against school rules. As a reprimand, Severus, your detention-granting privileges are temporarily revoked." He tapped Fawkes lightly with his wand, said _"Abiungo,"_ and her visual bond with the phoenix collapsed, leaving her in darkness.

Maud set Athena back on her shoulder, murmured the linking spell, and Dumbledore's office leaped back into view. "I'll talk to my uncle," she said to Snape, "and tell him how you saved my life. With your permission, that is."

His mouth twisted in displeasure, but after a moment he relented. "Very well. But make sure that it _is_ your uncle." She nodded, and he went on, "And whatever you do, don't speak where you might be overheard. You have yet to realise how much is at stake."

"I know." She turned to Dumbledore. "Headmaster, may I have permission to go?"

"I would suggest a lengthy detour before returning to your dormitory, but yes."

"And I should warn you," said Snape, "that your reception in my class for the next few days is likely to be... less than pleasant."

"That's nothing to the reception I'm likely to have when I get back to my dormitory," said Maud. She reached up to her shoulder, stroked Athena gently. The little owl hooted and nibbled her fingers, comforting. "But it's all right. I can manage."

"I am beginning to realise," Snape said dryly, "that there are remarkably few things you can't manage, Miss Moody. Allow me to see you to the door."

#

_She was a child again, listening blindly to her uncle's low, rasping voice as he cradled her against him and stroked away her tears._

_"You'll have me now, Maudie. I can't bring back your parents, or take their place, but I swear I'll take good care of you. And the Death Eaters who came to your house - we'll find them, no fear, and I'll see them punished if I have to do it myself."_

_But what about the others? she wanted to ask him, but her throat was too choked with crying. Who will punish them?_

_If she had not been blind, she might have believed that two particular men were guilty of her parents' deaths, and consumed herself with a hunger for personal revenge. But the evil that had destroyed her family had no face. It was not the Death Eaters, but the evil they represented, that she learned to hate that night: a thing which could never be locked away in Azkaban, nor even put to death. It was bigger than even Voldemort himself, and though she knew she could never destroy it, nevertheless it had to be fought. It was a realisation that would define her life._

_#_

It had taken Maud fourteen years to appreciate it, but her blindness was a gift. It had limited her, but it had also set her free. Because of it, she had won the confidence of a remarkable man, whose methods she might sometimes question, but whose integrity she could never doubt. The exact means by which he planned to strike against the darkness she could only guess at: but she felt instinctively that the blow, when it came, would be a powerful one.

And if by supporting him she could strengthen his arm one iota, it would be worth it.

Standing in the moonlit corridor outside Dumbledore's office, Maud fingered the black pawn, tucked away into the pocket of her robes, and smiled. Then she turned, and walked fearlessly into the darkness.


End file.
